


Fireworks

by Coraleeveritas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Meet-Cute, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:04:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9254333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/pseuds/Coraleeveritas
Summary: There had been the year he'd caught mono from Melara Hetherspoon, and the car crash a while back that had put seventeen pins in his right hand, but that still left twenty or so nights he'd spent watching the same group of increasingly decrepit millionaires shuffle around gilded rooms only unveiled for special occasions while judging his very existence. The monotony had left him with the desperate clarity of mind needed to spot the introduction of anything new in seconds. Andshe, the blushing blonde with mile long legs currently trying to disappear into the crimson drapes, was most certainly out of the ordinary.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoseHeart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseHeart/gifts), [SandwichesYumYum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandwichesYumYum/gifts).



> This is a little later than I would have liked to post, but as I was still writing it on New Year's Day it's not as seasonally appropriate as I would have liked. But hopefully it's still a good way to kick off another year of writing.
> 
> Thank you again to the wonderful RoseHeart and Sandwiches, I've had a few tough months and they've always been there for me. I'll always be grateful for this fandom, and AO3 in particular, for allowing us to become friends.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this story!

It had been decades since Jaime could remember finding any enjoyment from attending the Lannister Cooperation's New Years Eve party, and almost as long since he'd managed to come up with a believable excuse not to go and rub shoulders with the very important people that had comfortably kept his father in business. Once upon a time, probably just after his brother had been born since he had a vague recollection of carrying Tyrion around the ballroom that first time, the crowd of naturally suspicious lords and ladies had found it amusing to keep him awake until midnight with the sweetness of easy bribery, chunks of chocolate passing hands like silent promises for continued good fortune, like they thought Jaime's happiness could have had any sort of influence over the formidable Tywin Lannister. But, as they came to the slow realisation that their spoiling of the son was having no effect on stringent business proceedings of the father, and Jaime had started to earn himself a less than savoury reputation, right around the time when candy would have turned into surreptitious glasses of champagne, his formerly golden sheen tarnished in the eyes of the bank's investors.

There had been the year he'd caught mono from Melara Hetherspoon, and the car crash a while back that had put seventeen pins in his right hand, but that still left twenty or so nights he'd spent watching the same group of increasingly decrepit millionaires shuffle around gilded rooms only unveiled for special occasions while judging his very existence. The monotony had left him with the desperate clarity of mind needed to spot the introduction of anything new in seconds. And _she_ , the blushing blonde with mile long legs currently trying to disappear into the crimson drapes, was most certainly out of the ordinary.

When she'd entered the room moments earlier, dangling like the ugliest of tree decorations from the arm of Selwyn Tarth, Jaime could have forgiven himself for dismissing her as merely the latest in a long line of unusual trophy girlfriends belonging to the head of Evenstar Holdings. But there was something in the way she held herself, closer to inquisitive and uneasy, like her main purpose tonight was to size up the financial competition rather than try and impress anyone in her outdated black and white dress, that stopped Jaime from reaching a forgone conclusion from just one glance. From what he could recall, previous years' interchangeable plus one brunettes had been all flash and no substance, flirting and drinking through endless small talk, the complete opposite of the woman who'd just about given up on nodding along to whatever was coming out of Roose Bolton's mouth and was studying her own shoes as she slipped further and further behind swathes of heavy velvet.

Jaime knew he shouldn't leave his spot between the door and the drinks table, if only because his brother was running late again and they'd both need hard liquor and an easy escape route, but he was already bored and she was the most interesting thing he'd seen for weeks. If only he had more time to come up with a plan that went beyond cliché.

"Gods, there you are," Jaime exclaimed loud enough to cut Bolton off mid-sentence, causing the ugly, Amazonian blonde to jump, blush and frown all at once as he strode purposely towards the decorated bay window. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

The woman opened and closed her mouth twice as if searching for any one of the same questions that appeared to be dancing guilelessly across her freckled forehead, more spots dusting her plump lips reminding him so much of icing sugar that Jaime felt himself unconsciously lick along his own while Bolton deliberately glanced between them, looking for a chink in the hastily constructed façade. Jaime allowed his smile to stretch a little wider, to shine a little brighter as he continued to ignore the man at their side and hold her deep blue gaze, willing the blonde to play along if only until Bolton disappeared back to whichever crypt he'd crept out of this time.

The northerner took another long look, doubt settling like a cloud of smoke, and Jaime was just about to dredge up another flirtatious term of endearment when the older man cleared his throat to address the blonde. "It was...lovely to see you again, Miss Tarth. I expect your father to be in touch after the holidays." Bolton nodded as he passed out of earshot, but none of his parting words were heard as Jaime's mind raced to connect the morsels of new information with what he already knew about the Tarth family.

"I would thank you for your assistance, Mr Lannister," she told him smoothly though colour still danced along her cheekbones while she glared down at him, the sound of her voice snapping the final puzzle piece into place. "But I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that... _Brienne_."

He'd never seen her face, not that it was anything to write home about now they were standing inches apart, despite absently noticing that her eyes were truly astonishing, but they'd been emailing for months, ever since Evenstar Holdings had joined the bank's board of trustees back in the spring. Jaime had thought it a strange decision at the time, his father had never taken an interest in the luxury property business before and Selwyn, successful as he was, tended more towards honest and honourable than any of the other investors who flocked around the antique boardroom table six times a year.

Every interaction with Brienne since had confirmed his suspicion that apples in Tarth didn't fall far from the proverbial tree. Equally as pigheaded as she was conscientious and good intentioned, Brienne was originally given his details by a frazzled assistant after contract negotiations had already drawn to a close. It had started with queries over why his signature on the end of financial year Trustees paperwork didn't match that on original documents she'd received. He had no desire to tell her that the scrawl was subject to how badly the metal in his hand was feeling, so decided instead to rile her up by changing the subject and asking personal question after personal question.

It went on like that for days, by which point hearing the message alert he'd given her was beginning to make him grin, and Jaime was impressed that she hadn't given in or backed down. All he knew after a full week of badgering was her name, her job title, and the letters signifying her level of education, which was written politely at the bottom of each email. She wasn't on social media, the company website was missing her picture and even an online search gave him nothing of substance. He sent freshly signed papers to the Evenfall Offices first thing the next day, but couldn't bring himself to stop emailing the irritatingly stubborn young woman looking after the Cooperation account.

"I know I asked you out for a drink," he pointed out jovially, remembering the last conversation they'd had, where Brienne had admitted that she was only still working for her father until an appropriate assistant could be found since her doctorate degree was very nearly completed. "But I was hoping to get to know you somewhere a little less public."

"You were joking," Brienne replied, making it a statement rather than anything close to a question. He'd offered her Podrick, his brother didn't really need the kid around and Jaime had a further army of help, but she refused to accept, as it wasn't fair to think everyone was cut out for a life of isolation on an island. "And I was never planning on attending the last meeting."

"Shame. It was the most interesting one yet," he said, wondering if a smile would do something wonderful to her eyes, though she only folded her arms and glared a little more fiercely. "They decided we should change our florist. The roses weren't to everyone's liking, too reminiscent of High Garden apparently."

"I hate...you have a family _florist_?"

"We have a family everything, Bee." She narrowed her eyes in disbelief, although it might have been the new nickname she was questioning. "Tailor, sommelier, all night pastry chef..."

"You're kidding about that last one, right?" she enquired, crinkling her nose. "No one needs an all night pastry chef."

"Two small boys would have vehemently disagreed with you about that."

The corner of her mouth twitched for a second, starting and stopping what Jaime thought could possibly be a show of fond emotion dead in its tracks, before she managed to focus his attention further, sucking and biting into the chapped surface of her lower lip. "Your brother?"

Jaime nodded. "He'll be along later, or so I've been promised. Until he shows his face I've been left to make nice with the money. He eyed her openly. "But I can't say it's all that bad when what should have been a lady with one foot in the grave is instead barely thirty and all legs and eyes."

"I don't know what you want, Mr Lannister," she huffed indignantly, taking another step away from him as a blast of cold air brought in an additional group of cousins, most of which he thought he could name. "But I'm not-"

"Jaime."

"Excuse me?"

"Whatever you're not, _we've_ been on first name terms for a while now, Bee, you really should call me 'Jaime'."

"Jaime," she repeated, as stern and diligent as ever, though there was the slightest of quivers in her voice that indicated her generally icy demeanour may be thawing. "There must be more important people here tonight to talk to, I'd hate to waste anymore of your time."

He watched her look around the room again, appearing not to be searching for an exit as much as an explanation to why someone like him was still by the side of a lowly assistant. But Jaime knew she had a PhD in child and educational psychology and was probably smarter than most of the people around them.

If he was being honest, though, he should take the time to say hello to the representatives sent from The Iron Bank of Braavos and the Blackwater Brothers' Loans Company, but aware that he was just one pretty face in a sea of attractive, near interchangeable blonds, he doubted the men would mind who they were venting to as long as they came with the Lannister surname. Knowing that both Cerenna and Myrielle would be the epitome of patience with the bankers when he'd tend towards snark and spite, Jaime couldn't stop smiling up at Brienne instead of worrying about familial duty.

"I don't think I'll be missed for a while yet."

"I'd miss you," she blurted out, blushing deeply when they both realised what she'd said, the stretch of his grin turning smug. "I mean, if I'd come all this way to see you, I'd want to see _you_. And you're so..." Brienne waved her hand under his nose while her eyes darted out of the window, following a pair of headlights that were travelling languidly up the driveway. "You have a...personality that's not easy to forget."

There were a million things Jaime could have said to her in that moment, but he settled on remarking how empty her hands were when so many servers were circling with champagne. "Or," he added, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Or I could ask Hot Pie to whip us up some petit fours, if you'd prefer."

Brienne shook her head just as her stomach growled in protest, and Jaime pounced on the sound. "Have you not had a chance to sample the salmon puffs yet, either, Bee? You'll give us a bad name as hosts if you stand here starving for much longer."

"I had lunch on the plane earlier, thank you," she promised. "And I'll call room service when I get back to the hotel."

"Tomorrow?" he pulled a face. "My kitchen is open all night, free of charge. Anything you want, Hot Pie would be happy to make it for you."

She nibbled along her lower lip again, carefully weighing up her options before offering him a brisk nod and a near humourless smile. "Okay."

"Okay," he agreed, holding out a hand that Brienne merely stared at. He'd only half expected her to take it but it was strangely like being doused with cold water to learn that her early wariness hadn't completely left them alone yet. She seemed to have learned to trust him implicitly when they emailed only. "Follow me."

As engrossed as they were in their own conversations of profit and prestige, there wasn't a single pair of eyes that noticed the two blonds slip out of the ballroom, Jaime reaching the relative safety of the hallway just as his brother barrelled through the front door with an expensively tasteless woman on each arm, cutting off the unexpected sigh of relief that was filling his lungs.

"I thought you said you didn't like bringing a date to these things," Tyrion commented, offering his most charming smile to Brienne even as he gave her legs a lecherous once over. "Do I get an introduction now or later?"

Jaime made an attempt at waving his hands in the general direction of the two people who probably knew him best. "Bee, this is my brother Tyrion. Tyrion this is Selwyn Tarth's daughter and our guest, Brienne."

"This is _Brienne_?" Tyrion asked, his eyebrows rapidly disappearing into his hairline. "I thought you said she was-"

"You talk about me? Why do you talk about me?"

"Once," Jaime sighed. It wasn't really a lie if he'd only considered over and over again telling Tyrion about the strangely compelling woman he was chatting to on a thrice daily basis. If his father ever caught wind that he was even a little bit interested in pursuing a smart, well educated, funny, eligible woman from a good family, Jaime would be engaged before he could blink. "I mentioned you once. In passing. After that email about the library dedication."

Her frown deepened like she had seen his mind working and didn't quite believe what was coming out of his mouth but her reply remained pleasant and polite. "My dad was really pleased to meet your aunt and uncle when we re-opened that library. They spoke very highly of what you and Tyrion are doing with the company."

"You've talked about me, too, then, Bee?"

"Once or twice," she admitted, refusing to meet his eye as he enjoyed the novelty of teasing her face to face. "For a while everyone I met only wanted to talk about why we were getting into bed together."

Tyrion's snort of laugher cut through the immediate sound of Brienne tripping over her tongue, broken protestations and calls of misunderstandings crashing like midnight fireworks around them, Jaime's imagination running away with him so quickly that, for once in his life, words failed him.

"Well, the lady has spoken and you can't say fairer than that," Tyrion quipped as he swallowed the last of his giggles, Brienne's face turning the colour of ripe strawberries. "I'm tagging you out, brother. This house is big enough for me to pretend that you two disappeared into some long forgotten room for the rest of the evening. And if I see you tomorrow morning, Brienne, I promise to be discrete."

"We're not-"

Tyrion shook his head, pretending that he wasn't listening to any further mumblings. "Happy New Year, you two."

"Happy New Year, Ty," Jaime replied automatically, his mind still focused elsewhere even as Brienne regained just enough composure to try and shoot him a withering state full of confused disapproval. Though the sound of her stomach growling again took the edge off whatever embarrassed ire their jokes had stoked up. "You know I promised Brienne the best meal in the city and she finally seems to be getting impatient at being kept waiting."

"Patience of a saint, that one."

"I'm standing right here and that's not true," Brienne huffed, tightening the fold of her arms across her chest, her sensibly scooped neckline dipping with the effort to reveal a new galaxy of freckles. "You don't know what I'm feeling."

"I've read all your emails," Jaime countered. "You're not as hard to figure out as you think."

"But I promise you, he's easier," Tyrion added solemnly, barely glancing at his brother, his eyes narrowing in mock annoyance before the pair dissolved into laughter. Jaime bit into his lip as he noticed Brienne watching, looking like she was hovering between calling them out on their stupidity and not wanting to head back into the party just yet.

"Brienne can read me all she wants later," Jaime announced without a hint of self consciousness, giving her a smile that she didn't quite return. "But I've just got one question for her right now; club sandwich or burger?"

**********************

The Lannister family liked to pretend that they didn't have downstairs staff anymore, that the idea of servants had been banished with the death of Jaime's great-grandfather, but even by bringing the kitchens up onto the same level as the ballroom there was a distinct change of tone as he and Brienne slipped past an exiting server loaded down with freshly baked bite sized pies. The girl hissed as he stole a handful, pressing two into Brienne's hands, crusts still steaming, demanding that she eat something decent before the few sips she'd had of champagne went to her head.

"I'm not some delicate flower you have to keep fed and watered," she told him around bites of braised beef, swallowing what was left of the appetiser and removing leftover gravy off her fingertips with her tongue.

"Good," he replied bluntly. "I'd hate for you to out grow Casterly House. Especially since you've just found us."

Brienne rolled her eyes like she'd heard it all before, remaining determined to share the stolen treasure with her new partner in crime.

"Do you want fries with your burger?" he asked, firing options off at her like he did this every day. "Salad? Pickles?"

"Don't you think you should ask the chef first before putting your order in? This kitchen isn't a drive-through."

"Wouldn't it be fun if it was, though?" Jaime grinned. "We've even got a cinema room upstairs if you were interested in an old fashioned drive-through experience."

Brienne glared through another unstoppable blush as she stepped out of the path of a mass exodus of serving staff, all carrying full trays with piles of pies and pastries. "I'm really not interested in what you do with your girlfriends when you bring them here."

"Girlfriends?" he scoffed, surprised that she hadn't considered what multiple late night messages meant about his personal life. There wouldn't be many of his one sided flirtatious acquaintances who'd be happy learning how much Brienne was on his mind. "You're the first woman I've asked out...in...for dinner in years."

She carefully met his twinkling eyes with a well honed look of inquisitive mistrust, her lips twitching again like they were fighting against her better instincts to match his near infectious smile. "Well, I-I didn't...shouldn't you be-"

Jaime opened his mouth to help her away from stumbling over half formed phrases and onto a more understandable path, but before a single syllable could leave his lips the voice of the Lannister family chef cut them both off. Hot Pie was younger then their last few chefs, but clearly enjoyed sampling his wears as much as the others had, having been accidentally headhunted from a country pub Tyrion had frequently visited after heavy nights in the capital where his talents were being vastly underestimated.

"It's all about the gravy, you can use whatever cut of meat you want as long as the gravy is good. I prefer to pick the-" Hot Pie was telling one of the junior staffers as they strode back into the kitchen from one of the walk in freezers, coming to an abrupt halt as soon as he saw who had joined them from the party. "Is there a problem with the buffet?"

Jaime shook his head. "Not at all, I'm sure it's to my father's precise, exacting standards." He stole a glance at Brienne, wondering if her mouth was starting to water the way his was, surrounded by the smell and sizzle of barbecue chicken bites. "But I was hoping you could throw together a couple of your famous double decker burgers before my friend here passes out from starvation. She hasn't eaten since this morning and it wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to let her order hotel food later, when we have a world class chef in the next room."

Hot Pie beamed while Brienne squirmed a little, caught in the spotlight Jaime kept casting on her. "Take a seat, I just need to raid the family friendly fridge."

"Family friendly? I didn't think you or your brother had any children," Brienne asked in hushed tones as she slid into one of the vaguely out of place bar stools Tyrion had installed some years earlier in front of the hatch that separated the chefs and servers. Tywin had hated the idea of his son eating with the staff, but that had only made Tyrion more determined.

"We don't," Jaime agreed, gracefully climbing up next to her. "Family friendly is just code for all the crap my father would prefer us not to eat as respectable businessmen. It's mainly full of burger patties and ice cream. And frozen pizza for midnight snacks just in case."

"In case of what?"

"In case they get too impatient to wait for us to make one," Hot Pie interjected jovially, steadily feeding a second deliciously marbled steak into a mincer, appearing to be genuinely interested in the unexpected guest. "I keep telling them it takes just as long to reheat."

"Let me guess," Brienne replied with a quick glance at Jaime. "They never listen."

"In my brother's defence," Jaime drawled, holding up his hands in protest. "He's usually drunk when this happens. And I lived off frozen everything my first year of college, so I learned very quickly that good things come to those who wait."

She considered him for a second or two too long to be thought of as polite, before shaking her head and striking up a new conversation with Hot Pie.

"We had a housekeeper when I was young, Mrs Roelle, who cooked for me and my dad but she was more like something from a gothic horror than the set up here."

"It's not normally like this, though we can cater for up to 300 quite easily."

Brienne nodded in understanding. "Birthdays, Christmases and all the banquets? I never knew why there were so many events on the social calendar."

Jaime felt a frown flicker across his features as they fell into further easy chatter, Hot Pie more than happy to talk about food and travel. While Brienne had shared so many details about her life, education and all the things that she loved, she hadn't opened up much about her childhood. He'd guessed from the amount of time it had taken to move past her standoffish but shy demeanour that maybe her teen years hadn't been an easy ride, although with her height and her face and now the addition of unfriendly family staff, he was ready to upgrade 'uneasy' to 'unbearable.' Even though she was well past needing it, Jaime had never wanted to comfort someone as much.

"...and I'm only at the house for holidays now so I've had to learn how to fend for myself."

Hot Pie smiled sympathetically, as if he'd heard similar stories. "Once a month, I give cooking classes at Syrio's in town. You should come along if you're in the area. I'm sure Jaime would like to see you on a more regular basis."

"We're not...I mean, I'm not going to be so..." Brienne swallowed thickly, studying the freckle dusted patterns painting the back of her hands rather than check for any changes in Jaime's expression. "I'd have to look at my schedule. My new job isn't as location steady as working for my dad."

"I thought you said you were going to be working in the Winterfell school district from February?" Jaime butted in, impatient for news that could mean even more changes to their almost settled late night routine of written strike, parry, and counterattack.

Brienne grimaced as she turned her head towards him, a half shrug lifting her shoulders. "They changed their offer when they sent the contract. They wanted someone to start right away and I-I wasn't ready. I've been asked to think about taking a job in another district, though. I just got the email from Riverrun on the way to the airport this morning."

"I hear it's really nice there," Hot Pie commented, humming to himself as he stacked lettuce leaves, chopped tomatoes and perfectly golden onion rings on top of still sizzling beef, doubling up on sides before passing the plates across the table.

"If by 'nice' you mean 'wet', then it's lovely," Jaime laughed around a mouthful of fries. "Highgarden, Lannisport, Sunspear all have better weather and at least two of those areas have some of the best schools in the country."

"My college roommate is now a high school principal in Highgarden," Brienne admitted, licking escaping tomato seeds off her fingers in a way that had Jaime unconsciously crossing his legs as he struggled to focus on his food. "And I've got friends who are governors and on trustee boards down there. I'd hate for it to look like I was given a job only because someone owed me a favour."

"Who's going to think that, Bee, when they see you've already published parts of your thesis?"

She stared at Jaime again, her mouth falling open in shock. "You've read it?"

"Only the parts that were quoted in the press release sent out by Summerhall U. My brother sent me the link when he recognised your name."

"I didn't know you knew, I'm..." Brienne took another bite rather than finish replying, her smile small but unmistakable. "I was expecting something a lot quieter when the journal accepted the article."

Abandoning what was left on his plate, Jaime leant across the bench, closing the distance between them, and gently rested his hand on top of hers, his thumb fighting to draw circles across the sensitive skin running along the underside of her wrist. Gulping down a much needed breath, he found, to his great relief, that she didn't immediately pull away, looking at him inquisitively through a fan of pale lashes. "Never expect less than you deserve, Brienne."

She ducked her head instinctively as if she was waiting for the punchline, but, when it didn't come, her gaze flickered back to him without hesitation. "Jobs in places like Lannisport and Sunspear don't come along very often. And I'd be up against some tough competition."

"You haven't taken a proper holiday in years so if it takes a while, some time off isn't going to hurt. It's not like your dad is going to push you out of the company before you're ready to leave. Plus," he paused more for thinking time than effect, "I think you're worth waiting for."

"Jaime," she whispered, mindful of Hot Pie hovering just out of earshot with the mini chocolate cheesecakes he'd been perfecting. Curling her hand into a fist like she needed space, Brienne pushed Jaime's touch away, only to interlock their fingers before he could voice a protest. "You're still not half as charming as you think you are."

"Of course I am," he purred, watching their joined hands with interest. "You've got me wrapped around your little finger."

"Surely, if you were having that much of an effect, it would be the other way around."

"Not necessarily," Jaime replied smoothly, full of smiles. "But I'm practically sitting in your lap right now and maybe I like-"

Hot Pie coughed a little louder than was necessary as he tried to remove their empty plates without disturbing either of them too much, clearly realising they were on the brink of something special. "If you two want to see the fireworks, you should probably head out onto the porch. The countdown is just about to start."

As if on cue, a cheer filtered through from the expansive gardens surrounding Casterly House, the ballroom emptying out to see the impressive display that would bring the evenings festivities to a close. Back when he was young enough to enjoy simply being allowed to stay up past his bedtime and holding the attention of an entire room, Jaime remembered loving this part more than any other. But maybe there was something to be said about having someone like Brienne to share it with.

Loathed to drop her hand now that she had so easily entwined it within his own grasp, he guided Brienne, after she had thanked Hot Pie multiple times for dinner, around the kitchen islands and out through a pair of stained glass French doors.

_Ten..._

"Is this okay?" he murmured, rising up onto his toes to keep the question between them, feeling the beginnings of blue winged butterflies that came with being unable to take his eyes off her.

_Seven..._

She nodded, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Thank you again for dinner. It's been a long time since I've had a chance to be myself at one of these events."

Jaime laughed in agreement, all breath and no sound. "There's a black and white ball for Valentines. We can pick through the best chocolates in the tree house instead, if you RSVP."

"You have a tree house?"

"You don't?"

_Two..._

"I'd have...it's a date," she promised as he shuffled even closer to push a few strands of straw blonde hair off her forehead, tracing his finger along the blooming blush colouring her cheeks on the way to cupping her jaw, their arms already wrapped around each other in anticipation.

"Happy New Year, Bee," he smiled against her lips, hearing the hitch in her breathing milliseconds before the clock struck twelve and she took the opportunity to help him welcome in the change with a less than traditional good luck kiss.

The sound of the first Daenerys wheel exploding into a kaleidoscope of blues and greens startled Brienne further into his arms, his head sent spinning with the power behind her fiercely tentative touch, instantly intoxicated by the feel of softly chapped lips brushing against his ever eager mouth over and over again.

"Was that okay?" she pulled back much too soon for Jaime's liking, all swollen lips and blown pupils and breathless in a way that made his imagination run wild, despite feeling equally as winded from a minute long make out session. "I don't usually...especially with someone I've only just met."

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't usually...after a first date either. But we 'met' a while back, Bee," he cocked his head in order to find a better angle to memorise Brienne's glorious flush. "And, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you might just agree that it's been a long time coming."

"It's not like I really thought about it before tonight," she confessed, the next wave of red rockets hiding any further emotion she was too genuine to cover up. "Even if I had, you were so sure of yourself and so far out of reach."

"I dreamed of you. Not details, just...feelings."

"You couldn't possibly..." she stuttered, taking a step back as if needing to look him in the eye to understand. "I can't be at all what you expected."

"No, you're better," he swore, finally feeling the bite of the wind without Brienne shielding him from the elements. "I'm not that creative."

Her eyes brightened like she had more to say but by the time he'd cocked an eyebrow in reply and a second full body shiver had raised goosebumps down her bare arms and along the delicious curve of her neck, Jaime forgot his train of thought and threw his jacket around her shoulders, happy to let her borrow the body heat if it kept her close and comfortable.

"So...as lovely as that was, would the lady be opposed to a little more practice?" he enquired delicately, fluttering his eyelashes at Brienne as she slid her arms through the sleeves of the tuxedo jacket, fitting her well toned torso almost perfectly.

"I think I could be persuaded," she replied with a smile, curling her cold fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, leaving no doubt in Jaime's mind that the pink sunset of fireworks popping all around them were the perfect backdrop to share another series of deeply romantic kisses.

It was going to be a wonderful year.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)


End file.
